


I'm Not a Doctor, Just in Love

by Falonian



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Newt gives his creatures Old Names, Rating will probably go up in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falonian/pseuds/Falonian
Summary: 'You've got to come with me right now, Newt,' Tina said without further preamble. Before Newt could say anything in return, she continued, her voice slightly rushed but determined. 'They've found Graves, and he's alive, but barely, and he seems to be sick, in pain. We're not sure what it is, but it's not a spell or jinx or any of the kind. They're looking into options right now, but maybe it's something more of your expertise.'Or, Percival Graves gets found and is sick, and it's Newt who's got to nurse him back to health again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so. I don't even know what I'm going to do with this story, the summary is just something I made up because you need a summary, right. But I needed to write this ship because there is not enough fanfiction for it and I am trash. And possibly in love with Percival Graves. Maybe. But he's Newt's so I'll just admire him from a distance. 
> 
> Don't judge me on the title I had to do something real quick *screams in agony*

The days after the Obscurial, after Credence, after Grindelwald, there were a lot of things that needed to be done.

New York was littered with ruined roads and buildings, due to either the Obscurial or several magical beasts. Small teams of wizards swanned out over the city to check the blocks, and if there was indeed recent damage and it was obviously the fault of the magical community, they fixed it. Other groups combed through the city as well, but for another reason: making sure all No-Majs really had forgotten about the events. It would be unwise to just assume, and as it was, it would be safer to be certain they'd left no traces in anyone's mind. There was also debriefing, and Picquery speeching to all of MACUSA, about Credence, the Obscurial, but mostly Grindelwald. He was in custody now, and they were asking him all kinds of questions - but as of yet, he had not answered a single thing.

Newt Scamander didn't participate in any of these things.

Well, that wasn't actually entirely true, he did attend President Picquery's speech, if only because she'd said she expected him to come. Newt had never really been one for these kinds of things, but he'd gone anyway, because she'd asked - demanded, more like, and he hadn’t dared to say no.

At the moment, he was sitting on a tribune, listening. Picquery had spoken of what had happened with a firm voice some time ago- it had all been a bit dry and summarised, but everything she'd said was true. She'd even thanked Newt for his assistance, which he thought was nice of her, though he wasn't such a fan of the way it had brought him to the attention of all the people in the room. Which, a lot of people. He'd more or less zoned out when she'd started talking about safety, Aurors, international ties, the wizarding world, Grindelwald, the future. It was all quite technical, full of political jargon, and Newt had tried to listen, he really had. But he'd really never been one for these kinds of things, and this speech was especially difficult for a magizoologist to focus on.

So when Picquery called out his name for the second time during her monologue, it was kind of a shock, because Newt hadn't been listening for - quite some time already.  
'It was Mr Scamander - not any one of my Aurors, not any one of our own even - who saw that Percival Graves was not the Percival Graves we know.'

Newt let out a sigh of relief - it hadn't actually been a question directed at him. Merlin, that would have been awful, he had no idea what she'd been going on about. But now his attention was piqued again. For however long that would be.

'It took a stranger to see what was happening. It took a man from overseas, who had never been to America, who had no clue about our inner workings, to see there was something wrong. I want to emphasise this: No one from MACUSA noticed that an immensely powerful dark wizard had infiltrated our ranks, had placed himself among us as if he were one of us. We did not notice that someone with the worst of intentions slipped through our defences and put himself in the position of someone we all trusted. I blame myself here, as well.'

Here Picquery stopped for a moment and looked through the hall. When she continued, it was with even more conviction than before. 'I count Percival Graves among my closest friend. He has been beside me for many years and together we have soldiered on through the bad times and celebrated the good times. And even I, even I did not notice when a perfect stranger replaced my friend.'

In the short silence that followed, there was not a sound to be heard. Newt looked around and saw that nearly everyone present was focusing intently on what the President was saying, watching her with solemn looks on their faces.

Finally, Picquery started talking again. 'We have become lazy. We've taken our safety, our defences for granted. Accepted it without bearing in mind that things could change for the worse if we kept on doing nothing to really protect ourselves if we stopped being watchful. And it took us the near start of a magical war to realise this.' Another, shorter silence. Then: 'Now it is our duty to take learning from this. It is up to us now to advance and put this behind us, to perform better in the future. I trust that you will take this to heart, and act accordingly. We have to come together and move forward, wary but not mistrustful, no matter how difficult this may seem after what happened to Percival Graves. I am certain that we, as a community, are able to pull this off. And we shall.'

With that, she concluded her speech and gracefully nodded in reaction to the deafening applause that boomed through the hall. Soon she was surrounded by people with cameras and Quick-Quotes Quills - Newt guessed they worked for The New York Ghost and whichever other things they had in America - and the room was bustling with movement.  
Newt thought this was the perfect moment to leave the scene. So he did.

He Apparated straight to the apartment issued to him by MACUSA. Newt more or less lived there now. Originally, he'd wanted to go straight back to England, but he'd made friends, human friends, and he just. Wasn't ready to part with them just yet. Living with Tina and Queenie was out of the question, though - it wasn't that the Goldstein sisters would mind, not even that it was just slightly impractical, living in a women's building as a man - Newt was a wizard, he could do things. He just didn't want to impose. No matter what they said, he'd feel like a bit like an intruder, living there, in their cosy, private home. That was their space which they were entitled to have, it wasn't his to take.  
So now Newt Scamander lived in an apartment, in the middle of New York, close to MACUSA headquarters, an ocean away from his home country. Life just happened like that, it would seem.

'Hello... Yes, yes, mummy's here now, it's all right...' Newt smiled while he carefully inspected his Occamies. They'd let him keep his case, but only if he fixed the closings. Really fixed them, to prevent anything from escaping again.

'I know I'm a bit later than I promised, but I had to go somewhere... Very inspiring, I think, I didn't catch all of it...'

As he moved on to feed the rest of his creatures - and talk to them and generally pet them - Pickett climbed out of his breast pocket onto his shoulder to watch his proceedings. They'd made peace a day or two ago, and Newt was glad of it. He extremely disliked it when anything caused a rift between him and his creatures.

It wasn't until he was feeding the Bert - short for Bertrand - that he realised someone had been knocking on the case, and even then it was only because Bert heard it first and started frantically moving his ears to catch the sound.

'Oh,' Newt said bewildered, throwing the last pieces of meat in Bert’s general direction - the Nundu, that is, who caught it all between his jaws nonetheless and started chewing enthusiastically. 'They must need me upstairs.'

Newt threw on his coat, put Pickett in his breast pocket, quickly climbed the ladder, stuck his head out of the case and was promptly assaulted by Tina, who hauled him up with so much force he almost keeled over. She stabilised him with her hands on his shoulders and then kept them there so he would look her in the eye.

'You've got to come with me right now, Newt,' Tina said without further ado. Before Newt could say anything in return, she continued, her voice slightly rushed but determined. 'They've found Graves, and he's alive, but barely, and he seems to be sick, in pain. We're not sure what it is, but it's not a spell or jinx or any of the kind. They're looking into options right now, but maybe it's something more of your expertise.'

She looked at him meaningfully. Newt caught on to her train of thought. 'You mean it might have been a creature?' There was a definite possibility he could help the man if that was indeed the case.

Tina shrugged slightly. 'Could be, we're not sure yet, but there is a possibility.' She cast a quick Tempus Charm and took Newt's arm. 'We've got to hurry now, I've spent quite some time finding you. You just seemed to have disappeared after Picquery's speech, you know.' She flashed a nervous grin at him, but before Newt could say anything she grabbed his arm and they Disapparated.

Instead of a scene somewhere in some seedy part of New York, which Newt had honestly kind of expected, they found themselves at what appeared to be a wizarding hospital. Newt had been to St-Mungo's more than once - and a lot of other foreign hospitals, besides - and most of the time because of his own wounds. This one was both a lot like and yet completely different from St-Mungo's.

For one, it seemed to be a lot more organised and... sterile than its British equivalent. They were standing in a relatively big hall with a very straight-lined, minimalistic architecture. The walls, the floor and the ceiling were all gleaming white and there wasn't a spot to be found. Along one wall there were helpdesks, all manned by helpful-looking witches and wizards. Healers in white robes and more colourful visitors were bustling around them, but in contrast to St-Mungo's everyone seemed to know what to do and where to go. To Newt, it all seemed rather impersonal, really.

He didn't get much time to wonder, however, because Tina started walking towards one of the numerous help desks and Newt had to follow her if he didn't want to lose her.  
'Hi! How can I help you two, sweethearts? Looking for loved ones?' In contrast with everything else in the room, the witch they'd approached had fiery red hair, even redder lipstick and a perpetual smile on her face, and instead of impersonal, she seemed to be on the other side of the spectrum: way too familiar. In an overly optimistic way. It made Newt feel uncomfortable.

Luckily, Tina seemed to be unfazed. 'I'm Auror Goldstein of MACUSA, ' she said promptly while flashing her identity card, 'here with Newt Scamander who is here to examine Percival Graves, head of Magical Security.' Newt had never heard her sound so detached and utterly uninterested in being nice, but the other witch's smile didn't disappear one bit.  
'That's right, they just brought him in.' She flicked her wand around a bit behind her desk and there appeared a fast-moving, brightly coloured script in the air that Newt couldn't read in the less than five seconds it was there, but that she apparently understood, because after it had disappeared she turned back to them with that ever-present smile still imprinted on her face and said: 'He's still in one of the Emergency Rooms, sweeties. Take the first doorway on the left and then go all the way down the corridor. Try not to get lost!' With that, she looked Newt straight into the eye and winked saucily. 'Though rest assured, I'd most certainly come to rescue you.' Newt abruptly turned his head away, but he felt her eyes on him anyway. It made him feel even more uncomfortable.

'Yes, thank you, we'll be on our way,' Tina said quickly as she grabbed Newt by the arm and started leading him away. When they were a good few steps further, she grumbled: 'They're all like that, those idiotic Deskwitches. No brains to speak of, but they're absolute vipers, they'll try to seduce anything pretty that’s unfortunate enough to cross paths with them.'

'A-are all Deskwitches like that in America?' Newt asked, still a bit out of it while trying to keep up with Tina's rapid pace.

Tina rolled her eyes. 'Most of them. It's what people like. The majority, anyway.' They'd crossed the hall and turned into the first open entryway that led to a seemingly endless corridor, still just as white and spotless as the main hall with equally white doors that said things like 'Emergency Room - Poison', 'Emergency Room - Jinxes', or, strangely, 'Emergency Room - Love'. 'I take it British Deskwitches are different?'

Newt thought about the witches that manned the desks at St-Mungo's for a moment. 'Yes,' he finally mused, 'I think you could say that.' He paused for a moment. 'Less... smiles.'

Tina let out an amused sound. 'They're creepy when they do that, aren't they?'

She didn't wait for an answer because they'd nearly reached the end of the corridor, and Newt could see that the last door had a plaque on it that read 'Emergency Room - Unknown' before it swung open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you see any mistakes, please report them to the quartermaster (me)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter, and especially thanks for the kudos and the bookmarks. Good god, I have no idea why, literally nothing happened there tbh but THANKS. IT WAS SO MOTIVATING.

Inside, they couldn't see much except at least five Healers who were blocking their view of anything else. They were conversing - arguing - in panicky, hushed tones.

'The longer we talk the bigger the change he's not ever gonna open his eyes again-'

'It's the _Director of Magical Security-'_

'I don't know what it is, I've never seen anything like it, there's nothing I can do-'

'If he dies right now you know on whose heads it's gonna be-'

'Where is that supposed 'specialist', anyway?'

'I think our specialist has just arrived, Healer Quincy.' A sixth Healer, a bald, dark-skinned man who looked to be around fifty years old, stepped forward. When they heard him speak, the other Healers immediately quieted and turned around to look at the newcomers.

'Healer Luther,' the man introduced himself without extending his hand. He sounded calm, but Newt could see he wasn't completely at ease. 'I am the leading Healer of Mr Graves' examination, though as it seems we have less time and resources than we originally expected. Neither I nor my fellow Healers seem to know what ails him. We received word from an Auror that there might be a specialist able to help him.' The Healer looked at them sharply. 'Who is the specialist?'

'That would probably be me,' Newt said. 'Newt Scamander. I understand it's a rather dire situation. If you would let me see and examine him...?'

'That _is_ is what you are here for, Mr Scamander, so if you would,' Healer Luther replied. He turned around to the other Healers. 'All of you - give Mr Scamander the space he needs. If he asks for something, you provide it, if he wants you to do something, you do it. He's the boss now. Let him through.'

Finally, the Healers moved aside so that Newt could see the rest of the room: predictably white and sterile, with a bed right in the middle of it. Percival Graves was lying on it, wearing a hospital gown, and looked to be unconscious. There were no blankets to be found.

'I would normally screen anyone who would be going to do anything with our patients better than this, but I can't say how much time we've got left,' Healer Luther said while gesturing at Newt to come closer to Graves. 'Let's hope you know what we're up against, Mr Scamander.'

'I hope I know, too,' Newt mumbled to himself, so softly no one else could hear it. Apprehensively, he walked up to the bed until he was standing right beside it. The Director of Magical Security looked as if he were sleeping, but his stillness felt unnatural, too _still,_ and he was barely breathing. It was quite disconcerting.

Bringing his face close to Graves', Newt had to fight off a blush as he inspected it - Percival Graves was a handsome man, he'd thought so since he'd first laid eyes on him, he wasn't blind. But he was also trying to be professional here, and it struck him that Graves looked exactly the same as the impostor had done. In fact, there were barely any signs of him ever being captured and imprisoned for who-knew-how-long. There was no facial hair, no loss of muscle, nothing that would suggest being kidnapped and held.

'Healer Luther?' Newt asked haltingly, straightening up again. 'May I ask how exactly Graves was found? I mean, in what - ah - position?'

'You mean under what circumstances?' Healer Luther came to stand next to him and crossed his arms. 'Well, apparently, he didn't seem wounded at first. I say at first because when we did some basic diagnostic spells there were traces of healing spells - more than a few, some older than others.'

'Grindelwald hurt him?' It wasn't surprising, not in the least. Newt read the papers, he'd seen the things Grindelwald was capable of, but it was still troubling, imagining the man lying in front of him on the receiving end of it.

'Absolutely. In fact, it's not unlikely he was tortured, but after every round, he'd get healed. It seems he was kept at bay, rudely speaking, with an altered Stasis Charm, probably specifically designed by Grindelwald - has to be, there are no known Stasis Charms that work on humans.'

'It would explain the lack of change in appearance,' Newt mumbled, walking around the bed to inspect Graves from the other side. 'But if he's not actually wounded,' he spoke up, 'I'm afraid I don't understand what's so critical about this situation. I mean, yes, he's not breathing all that well, it seems, and I, well he does seem to be a little bit sick, doesn't he? Though I hardly think that qualifies as fatal.'

The Healers were all looking at him with unimpressed looks now. He almost cursed Tina for bringing him here. His expertise was creatures, animals, beasts, not humans. He didn't know what could possibly be wrong with this man. Why did Tina even think he could help here? What was the point of being a magizoologist in this particular situation, the man could as well simply be very, very tired.

Suddenly, as if to contradict Newt's thoughts, a shock went through Graves' body and he started shuddering violently, his eyes clenched shut, his mouth open in a loud, outdrawn groan, his hands clawing at his hospital-issued gown, nearly tearing it in various places.

The Healers began to talk loudly again, one voice over the other - 'His vitals are all over the place, sir!' 'He's not breathing properly, he's going to experience a lack of oxygen soon!' - but Newt didn't actually hear any of it. As soon as Graves' had started experiencing pain, had started moving, Newt's mind and body kicked into some sort of overdrive, like it did when one of his own creatures was hurt or sick. He quickly ran his fingers over Graves face and arms, inspecting him, not even noticing how different these gestures could be in any other circumstances, only that Graves' arms and face and everything were unnaturally hot. At his touch, Graves appeared to calm down a bit, as if it were soothing.  
In rapid succession, he fired off a range of spells to detect certain substances that originated from creatures. There were enough spells to detect human-made potions, but Newt had designed these spells himself specifically to find creature-made poisons. Creatures, after all, were something he specialised in.

In no time, Graves body was highlighted by a purple-ish glow - or rather, his veins were. All over his body, there were colourful strands pulsating slowly just beneath his skin.  
'Manticores, of course, it's manticore venom!' Newt exclaimed just as Graves seemed to have another attack and ground out another groan in pain.

'Manticore venom?' One of the Healers repeated dubiously, looking at Newt like he’d gone completely mad. ‘But no one survives that! If any one of those beasts stings you, you're dead within the minute!'

Newt shook his head. 'He wasn't stung. Not by an actual manticore, at least. It was injected into his bloodstream, I think, probably strongly diluted and dosed very carefully, but even then it could still end up being deadly.' He looked at Graves, who was slowly slipping into unconsciousness once more. 'It sets your blood on fire, more or less.'  
Another Healer stepped forward and felt along Graves' limbs and head. She looked up at Healer Luther. 'He does feel hot. Too hot, but not clammy. Dry.'

'It could explain why he's going in and out of consciousness constantly,' Another Healer - the one Luther had called Quincy - added. 'If it truly burns you from the inside out like that, I don't think your body could handle the pain for long, like with the Cruciatus Curse. Eventually, you go mad because the spell keeps you awake, right? The poison doesn't, so your body automatically shuts down after a while. Inevitably, though, that same pain is going to wake you up again at some point.' Quincy scrunched up his nose. 'It's like a vicious circle.'

'That's not all.' The Healers collectively focused on Newt, who stared at the floor, not at ease with all the scrutiny. 'Yes, it's a vicious circle,' he continued with a softer voice, 'but it's not actually never-ending. The poison also has a certain paralysing effect. It stops the beating of your heart and drastically slows your breathing to next to nothing when undiluted. The burning is what makes the death so unpleasant, but it's the paralysing effect that really, uh, does you in. You simply suffocate.' He flicked his wand and the purple strings disappeared from Graves' body. The man's breathing had become even shallower during the past few minutes. 'If Mr Graves truly was under a Stasis Charm, then the poison has barely had the chance to leave his body. It's still in his system.'

Another Healer spoke up. 'You mean to say, it's been building up? Every time he took it, it became stronger?'

Newt shook his head. 'I think he's only had it administered once, to keep him docile, or - for torture. It's strong enough for that. But because it's still in his body, it keeps weakening him.'

'And the further he weakens, the greater the poison's effect.' Healer Luther nodded. 'It seems we have our source of the ailment. Now Mr Scamander, if you would be so kind to tell us how to help the poor man? And quickly, if you would, the situation is really becoming direr by the moment.' 

Newt wasn't sure how Luther was able to appear so calm and collected while a patient was slowly dying right under his nose. Possibly because he thought it was all going to work out fine. Merlin, he was going to disappoint him.

'I'm afraid I must say, Healer Luther,' Newt said while hunching in on himself to the extreme and looking straight at the floor, 'that I haven't the slightest idea how one would cure a man with manticore venom in his veins.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND STILL NOTHING'S HAPPENED. I SWEAR PERCIVAL AND NEWT WILL HAVE SOME ACTUAL DIALOGUE SOMETIME IN THIS STORY. IT'S GONNA BE GAY. SERIOUSLY.
> 
> and like always. see any weird things, report them to the quartermaster, if you would


End file.
